


Stupid Cop Fantasy

by torncorpse



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-24
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torncorpse/pseuds/torncorpse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1.14 coda. Steve's been thinking about the motorbike, and what else Danny could ride, all day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Cop Fantasy

Steve isn't dismissing the case. Not at all. He's not even putting the case behind him, even just sitting in the conference room, the whole team watching CHiPs reruns, Steve can't stop thinking about it. He even considers asking Chin to borrow his bike, although he doubts that Chin would be overly taken with just why Steve wants to borrow the bike. But Steve can picture it; thrum of the engine, slide of leather, strong thighs against his hips, arms at his waist. Ever since the motorbike comments Steve hasn't gotten the image of Danny riding bitch out of his mind.

It's driving him to distraction.

So much so that he doesn't notice the television being turned off, or Chin and Kono leaving, or hear Danny talking to him until his partner is snapping his fingers in front of Steve's face. "Yo, you with us?" The room was empty, the office dark, and Danny was just staring at him. "Seriously, what is up with you?"

"Nothing," shrugging it off, Steve walked out of the room, heading out like the others with the offices locked up. Distracted as he was, Steve didn't argue when Danny took the drivers seat, it was his car and Steve did drive it most of the time anyway. It was probably for the best, even as Danny started talking, bit parts of the spiel meeting Steve's ears, his mind was already drifting again.

He kept wondering if Danny had ever ridden a bike, considering his views on motorbike cops and the statistics from earlier, Steve would bet on no. It'd probably make Danny cling a little, make him hold on just a little tight, clench his thighs around Steve's hips. God, Steve had to shift a little, trying to alleviate the pressure on his hardening cock, just thinking about it. When Danny pulled up alongside Steve's place, he stopped on the street and Steve sent a look up to the house and then back at Danny.

"You wanna come up?" Danny didn't need to ask why, Steve was pretty sure his hard on was obvious. They'd been messing around on and off for a few weeks, but they'd never actually set out to end up in bed together. Until now, with Steve inviting Danny in, and both of them knowing what for.

"Yeah, sure." Pulling the car up into the drive, killing the engine and stepping out, Steve felt his heartbeat soar with anticipation. Previous times had just happened; a shoulder to lean on after the funeral for Meka, comfort from a buddy following Mary Ann's abduction. They'd just sort of slotted into the comfort sex role. Until right now.

Steve gets the door unlocked, steps aside for Danny to step in and then close and lock the door behind. Danny just sort of stands there, half turning to say something when Steve grabs his elbow and pulls them together. He's been half-hard most of the day and damn if he's not ready for the pay off. There's nothing comforting about the kiss, just Steve trying to memorise every part of Danny's mouth, and Danny actually surrendering against it. There's no way they're making it upstairs; shoes already off, Danny's hands working at Steve's cargo pants, Steve getting that damn tie off and then the shirt. Clothes are just left all over Steve's floor, the pair of them getting as far as the sofa, and personally, Steve thinks it's more than far enough.

Having a vague idea on just how he wanted this, on just what he wanted from Danny right then, Steve pulled Danny down onto the sofa over him, stretching out long ways with Danny having to straddle his hips to get the angle right. Steve just groans as Danny leans over, arm braced against the arm of the sofa, biting at Steve's throat. "This what you've been thinkin' about, babe?" And Danny rocks his hips into Steve's and yes, _yes_ , it really has been what he was thinking about. "You are so easy."

There's no argument from Steve, not as he slides a hand up to wrap around Danny's cock, stroking in time with Danny's little rocking movements. Danny's groan is right next to Steve's ear and sends shivers along the SEALs spine, his grip tightening slightly.

"Where's the slick?"

"What?" Danny doesn't wait for Steve's answer, reaching over to the table beside the sofa, shifting his weight and leaning over Steve to riffle around in the drawer. He shifts back, prize in his hand, resting back in Steve's lap. "What is that? What've you-" There's a grin on Danny's face as he shows Steve, "My gun oil? Really, Danno, you can't just," but Danny isn't listening, popping the cap on the bottle and squeezing the liquid out onto his fingers before reaching back and just, wow. Okay.

Previous times, Steve hadn't really been all that focused on things like Danny's face. The only time they'd fucked, after HPD had left Steve in his wreck of a house, Steve had been quick but thorough in prepping Danny with the Jersey cop bent over Steve's bed. So really, Steve can't say he was all that intent on watching Danny. But right there, in his lap, Danny is practically a porn show in Steve's living room. Steve can tell the minute Danny finds his prostate, two fingers pushing into himself to slick and stretch, and Danny's knees clench against Steve's hips, Danny bucking up slightly. It's impossible for Steve not to touch then; hands sliding up Danny's legs, over his hips and around to cup his ass, pulling him forward just a little.

"Condom, get it. Or am I doin' all the work?" It's difficult to do with a lap full of Danny, but Steve is a multitasker, he manages to get his cargos within arms reach and then pulls the little square out of one of the pockets. If Danny notices the small tremble in Steve's hands as he slides the latex on, he doesn't comment on it at all.

The condom is barely on before Danny swats Steve's hand away, stroking his own down Steve's length and spreading the rest of the oil over the condom. "Fuck, Danny," he's been ready for this since they crossed the door, since before that, and if he doesn't get-

In one move, one slow press down, Danny seats himself on Steve's length, bracing forward, biting down on his bottom lip and all Steve can feel is hot, tight pleasure. "What's the fascination, hmm?" The first move is just a tentative little rock, Danny flexing his hips forward and rocking back, getting his balance. "Never seemed too bothered before," it should be insulting just how coherent Danny is, but Steve can hear that little thread in his voice, that little hitching in his tone when he presses up, when Steve meets him on the down with a thrust of his hips, hands resting on Danny's hips. "Fuck, Steve, you wanna tell me what it is?"

"Shut up and ride me." Steve knows that Danny's a talker, Steve doesn't even care because Danny can use those ridiculous words in ways that Steve never thought possible, and the tone, the way Danny's voice gets when he's wrecked, on the edge and near begging, God, Steve could listen to it for hours.

"Yes, sir, Commander." And fuck, he didn't just give that away with a shudder and tighter grip on Danny's hips. Except he totally did, and Danny didn't say a word, he just moved over Steve, picking up the pace, his thighs clenching as, for once, Danny did as Steve wanted. It was better than he imagined, Danny above him, all but writhing, leaking against Steve's stomach and panting. Steve really could watch for hours. Next time, he tells himself, because he knows now there will be a next time, there's always going to be a next time. Nobody nearly died, nobody lost a friend, nobody was kidnapped, but there Danny is, in Steve's house, in Steve's lap.

Wrapping a hand around Danny's cock, stroking in time with each thrust, pressing up just a little hard, pressing deeper, Steve watches the way Danny's brow furrows, the way his teeth bite on his lip. Twisting his wrist, flicking his thumb over the head of Danny's cock and using his other hand to pull Danny down to meet his thrust sets Danny off, muscles clenching, body tightening, head falling forward as he groans low and loud, coming into Steve's hand and over his stomach. It doesn't take much more than a few jerky thrusts for Steve to follow, the tightness and heat pulling the orgasm from him and Steve doesn't even muffle his shout.

It takes him a few minutes; it takes both of them a few minutes. Danny leaning over Steve, forehead pressing against the arm of the sofa by Steve's head, trying to hold himself up, Steve in a rather contented sprawl over the sofa. But they both start to get uncomfortable, and Steve finally remembers Danny's bum knee and how it really can't be doing much good for him the way they are. Pulling themselves apart, Steve grabs the nearest piece of clothing to clean himself up, much to Danny's chagrin.

"That's my shirt. You just got spunk over my shirt." Tossing the shirt to the floor, the condom in the trash, Steve just presses his front against Danny's, kissing at the swollen bottom lip and smirking.

"I'll do your laundry."

"That's nice, really, but just what I am supposed to do now? Drive home shirtless?" Danny's not making any moves to get dressed though, hands on Steve's hips as Steve's hands end up in Danny's hair, cupping the back of his head.

"Stay, we can swing by your place in the morning for a change." And whatever they were before, partners that comforted each other, or friends with benefits or just two guys taking the edge off, whatever it all was before, it's changed now.

"Yeah, okay." Steve's pretty okay with the end result.

\--


End file.
